


I Miss You Like the Deserts Miss the Rain [Shifters prompts]

by boltshok



Category: Rostronair [KJfromColors]
Genre: Gen, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28583184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boltshok/pseuds/boltshok
Summary: Stolen away from the life he knew, Icefall must struggle to return home.





	1. Property

The hot sun beating down on his back through the bars of the cage only served to enrage him. The hunters had caged, bound, and muzzled him, and now tried to steal the jewels he proudly wore... but they were careful. The cuffs around his arms and legs were padded with wool.

“I’ve never seen one with a tail like this!” one of the new riders from the oasis exclaimed, riding up to drag the hilt of his sword along the cage’s bars. “And I’ve never seen any with  jewelry. ”

Reaching through the bars, he snatched at one of the few remaining trinkets adorning Icefall’s arms and just barely missed the silver chain.

The desert heat may have weakened his body after the weeks of constant travel but his mind was still active.

“I can understand you!” Icefall roared out, swinging his head to bash his iron muzzle against the bars of the cage while he shuffled his feet away from the rider. “That’s mine! And it is obvious you have no taste.”

“Ahh! It speaks,” the man yelped, and his horse shies away from the cage and its cart.

“Unfortunately,” one of his companions on a tired, dark-haired horse sighed. “You’ve only been here since this morning. Try traveling across not only the plains, but this entire gods-forsaken desert with it.”

He always was a quick learner. After mastering the guttural noises of the human’s language the words and the structure came easily to him. It was primitive at best, and was nowhere near as flowing and eloquent as the Rostronairan tongue.

“I’m not an it,” Icefall growled back before sinking down to rest on the floor of the cage.

“Look! Up ahead!”

Both riders’ attention was drawn to the front of the caravan where one of the scouts was shouting. Hakon stopped the pack train and gazed off into the distance through a spyglass he produced from a pocket in his coat.

“Well boys, we’ll eat well tonight,” he finally declared, turning his stallion to face the rest of the caravan. “The Khoteron Wall is in sight!”

The men around the cave cheered loudly but Icefall only curled up on the floor of the cage. Joy. More humans.

The outer Khoteron Wall was massive and reached high into the distant sky. It was made of stone similar to that of the desert pyramids and glistened a pearly sand color against the light blue sky. The inner wall, higher than the outer one, was visible even from this distance.

By evening time the caravan had reached the outer wall and was permitted inside to water the horses and give the men a chance to make camp. As soon as he could find one, Hakon sent a messenger to alert the sultan his new pet had arrived.

After they made camp in the merchant district near the inner palace wall, Icefall drank for the first time that day. A slave boy dribbled water into his mouth through the muzzle from a cold rag, and though it tasted like the rag it came from Icefall drank it down gratefully.

The messenger made a hasty return and delivered a written response on a piece of linen paper to Hakon. He read the note, then mounted his stallion and grabbed the reins to the draft horses pulling Icefall’s cage-cart.

“You and I are making a royal visit,” he said, grinning at Icefall and snapping the reins to the horses.

The cart lurched into motion and Icefall yelped when the slave boy fell off the side. He had only been perched between the bars, not standing on anything substantial, but when the cart had traveled a short distance Icefall could see he had not been run over and was merely dazed. Breathing a sigh of relief, Icefall turned his eyes on the road ahead.

The Khoteron Wall opened into the city of Khoteron itself, with the sultan’s palace in the very heart. The outer wall was only twenty or twenty-five feet high, he guessed, but as they approached the inner wall separating the palace grounds from the city he looked up... and up... and up... the entire structure was at least fifty feet off the ground, if not higher. There was a single gateway in the front manned by several soldiers, and when shown the paper Hakon carried they ushered him through straight away.

The transition from the city to the palace grounds was startling. On one side of the wall there was wall-to-wall housing, but here inside the walls of the palace it was green. Grass, trees, and flowers filled every available space, and the sound of running water caught Icefall’s ear as they drove towards the palace itself. The entire palace was surrounded by gardens.

He looked up at the palace and took a half-step back in his cage. The palace rose high into the air just like the wall, and it was enormous. The entry pavilion where the cage-cart stopped was larger than the entire camping area for Hakon’s caravan, and Icefall caught glimpses of a lavish interior decorated with more plant life along with tapestries, statues, and other fine decor.

A man wearing an elaborate woven tunic shoved the palace doors open and something about his presence made Icefall uneasy. He crouched down to press his belly to the cage floor and growled softly when the man strode right up to the cage. Two attendants hurried after him, protesting and motioning to the door, then the cage.

“Hakon, you were right, you were!” the man exclaimed, eyes drinking in every inch of Icefall’s body and tail feather. “How pleased I am you brought it alive!”

“You paid for alive, your excellency,” Hakon said, dismounting. “I hope it meets your desire?”

“Oh, my desire and more!” The sultan turned to glare at his attendants. “You! Bring the money for this man. He has pleased me greatly.”

“You better behave,” Hakon growled at Icefall while he handed the reins to a servant who materialised at his side. He growled back in return.

“Can, can it speak?”

“Of course it speaks, wouldn’t shut up the whole way here,” Hakon grunted, rummaging around in his pockets and coming up with the keys for Icefall’s shackles. “These are the keys for its bonds.”

The sultan beckoned hurriedly for an attendant, who scurried over and took the keys from Hakon at the same time the first returned with two sacks of gold.

“Your payment, Hakon,” the sultan said, gesturing absently at the coins. He was too enthralled with Icefall to hardly pay attention to the transaction.

“Thank you kindly, your excellency,” Hakon replied, bowing awkwardly at the waist before he took the two sacks and affixed them to his saddle. “One of my men will return for the cart ‘n’ cage before we leave.”

The sultan waved him off and Hakon leapt onto his horse, fixing a pointed glare at Icefall before he trotted off back towards the gate.

“My my, what an elegant creature you are,” the sultan purred, putting his hand on the bars of the cage. “But very dirty. Hakon dragged you halfway across the world, didn’t he?”

“How could you tell?” Icefall growled at him, and the sultan’s eyes grew wide.

“So you truly can speak.”

“Of  course I can speak,” Icefall groaned dramatically, easing away from the sultan to the other side of the cage.

“And here it was rumored to be myth,” the sultan murmured. “You must be washed and adorned. I see your existing jewels are... not many.”

Icefall looked down at his single bracelet before he craned his neck around to inspect the anklet around his right leg. He could see those, but he couldn’t tell if he still had all the piercings in his ear or not.

“I don’t disagree,” he grumbled.

“Then it’s settled,” the sultan responded. “Servants, open the cage and extract this treasure. I want them washed and brought to the appropriate bedchambers by morning.”

With a final gaze over Icefall’s dirtied tail, he ascended the stairs and disappeared into the palace. The attendant with the keys approached the cage cautiously and unlocked the door before pushing it slowly open. Two more servants exited the palace and approached the cage as well.

Icefall swiveled around and stepped closer to the opening. It had been moons since the last time he was out of this cage, and now... he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave or not.

“I don’t trust you,” he growled at the servant. “I’m not getting out.”

“Please?”

He took a glance at the gate in the wall through the garden. He could clear it if he jumped... maybe.

“Maybe if you took off these chains,” he offered, holding his first pair of hands out as far as he could.

The servant studied his posture, then cautiously leaned in and unlocked the first set of cuffs. Icefall bit his lip to keep from smiling when he was allowed to flex his arms for the first time since receiving the bindings.  Yes .

“And these,” he said, placing his first set of hands flat on the floor and extending his second pair of arms. Those chains and cuffs too were unlocked and removed.

“How about these for good measure?” he asked, turning around to show the servant his hind legs.

After the last cuff fell from his limbs, he stretched, turned around, and stretched again before approaching the edge of the cage. He looked down at the attendant and then grinned.

“Hah!” he barked, bunching his legs and leaping out over the attendant’s head.

The other two shouted and scattered away when he landed between them, swinging his head side to side. If only he had waited for the muzzle to be removed.

His body was aching from the lack of movement, from being cramped in the cage, but he forced himself to run. If he ran hard enough, leapt high enough... he could escape. Escape and... and...

He neared the gate through the garden, eyeballing the jump he’d need to take. The guards couldn’t reach him, they were too far away. All he’d need to do is... jump!

He leapt at the right time, but as he sailed towards the top of the gate his heart sank. In his weakened state, there was no way he was strong enough to make it all the way to the top of the gate with one leap. Why didn’t he think of that before? He extended his claws and landed feet first halfway up the gate. Even with his claws he slid down to the ground and had no more strength to stand. Staggering away from the gate, he slowly collapsed in defeat.

Blood roared in his ears. He was so desperate to escape, but even that small amount of exertion was leaving him dizzy.

He looked towards the attendants, who had called for the palace guards and were now advancing on him.

He looked away. The gate next to him now seemed like an impossible height. How could he even have considered escaping that way? It was hopeless.

When the attendants reached him, he didn’t need the guards to prod him into action. He stood on shaky arms and legs and followed them, head hung low and defeated.

...

A bath had never brought him such joy before. He had forgotten the sensation of cool water soaking into his coat, dust and grime and sweat lifting and floating away with the never-ending current. He didn’t even protest when two female servants slipped into the water with him and began massaging sweet smelling oils and soaps into his fur.

The bathing carried on forever. It felt like hours when they finally allowed him out of the water and as soon as he was cleared of the stream more servants were toweling him off and gingerly patting his tail feather dry. They offered him food and wine but he only took water. He was still thirsty beyond belief.

His eyes were barely open by the time they led him into a room of pillows and silks. They gave him a massive silk pillow and he laid down, the silk and the featherdown accepting his body as if it was made for him. One of the servants took a shorthair brush and started brushing his coat, and somewhere in between the rhythmic stroking of her hand over him he fell asleep.

...

He woke slowly the next afternoon, eyes blinking open as he recognized the sensation of someone or something handling one of his hooves. He looked up and saw a new female servant carefully polishing the wall of his hoof with a glossy polish. She had already done the other one, so he laid his head back down and let her continue.

The longer he laid there, the more prominent a sickly, warm feeling washed over him.

This was wrong. He knew it was wrong. He was being pampered by... by... his  owner. His owner’s servant.

It made him sick to think of it. He didn’t want to be here! And he was letting them touch him, bathe him,  look at him . Instead of a growl in his throat, a lump from his stomach was beginning to form. He wouldn’t vomit. He wouldn’t.

The servant finished with his hoof and he jerked it away from her and lurched upright, wrapping one set of arms around himself as he walked away towards the door and glanced towards the morning light peeking through the window. He swallowed hard and lifted his hands to hold his head.

This anxiety always hit him at the worst time. Being separated from Landguard was distressing. They had never been apart since the day they bonded, and now he didn’t even know where his beloved was.

“Water,” he croaked, feeling the bile rise in his throat.

He would  not  be sick. He could be strong. He... had to be.

The servant approached him cautiously and delivered a bowl of water into his hands. He drank from it and fiercely swallowed down the lump in his throat. When the bowl was empty, the servant cautiously took it and replaced it with a small loaf of bread.

“Eat,” she said gently.

Even though the thought of doing so made his stomach flop again, he tore the bread apart under her careful eye and forced it down. The bread was rough and thick but when it settled in his gut the weight felt right.

“Is there... more?” he asked tentatively.

She nodded and returned to him with two more loaves. He scarfed these down before finally the overwhelming urge to eat began to subside. With one hand massaging his gut he walked over to the window and looked out over the gardens below the palace.

“Now what?” he asked the open air, putting his hands on the windowsill and looking out.

He stands there for a few more long moments before he turns around to address the woman.

“Now what?”

She raised her eyes from the floor and met his gaze.

“There are... rooms for you,” she murmured. “I can show them to you... sir.”

Icefall swished his tail side to side in amusement. Was she shy?

“I’ve never been a sir to anyone,” he said, watching the way she flinched and dropped her gaze again.

No. She felt threatened by him, it was evident by the scent coming off her body. The longer he studied her trembling posture, the less superior he felt and the more... intimidating. She  had  been kind to him, and he supposed he owed her what kindness he could muster in return.

“But I don’t intend to start now,” he said, slowly walking up to her and putting his hand lightly on her arm. She jumped but looked up at him and bit her lip. “Do you have a name?”

He studied her face while she still stared at him. Her eyes were grey, like clouds at dusk.

“Lina,” she whispered to him, and he smiled and squeezed her arm gently.

“Lina,” he repeated. “Mm. My name is Icefall.”

He watched her test the name in her mouth without making a sound. Finally she noticed him watching and her face flushed with embarrassment.

“The rooms... this way...” she whispered, turning away from him and opening the door to the bedchamber. “...Icefall.”


	2. Discovery

Several weeks had passed since Icefall was brought to the sultan’s palace. He gained his weight back, scrubbed off the remnants of his horrid journey from the north, and for the most part was settling in. Still, the front gate held the claw marks from his first attempt to escape, but since then the barrier had been extended vertically and the gap he could escape through was too high to even think of reaching.

But that was... all right, he relinquished. He had found friendship in Lina, the servant woman who took care of him the first day, and since then he hadn’t attempted anything risky like escape again. She seemed to be one of the lowest servants—that was the reason she was to gloss his hooves. She wasn’t “good enough” to even touch his body. Since they had become friends, most of the other servant population had begun to disregard her, and Icefall feared she wouldn’t be safe if he left. The sultan could blame her, and after watching so many royal court decisions pan out poorly Icefall would  not be responsible for someone else’s safety like that.

Only recently had he been allowed to exit his rooms without a guard. After weeks of attending royal court, royal breakfasts and dinners, and anything else the sultan dragged him to within the walls, he must be convinced Icefall wasn’t escaping. Whatever. With his newfound freedom he was allowed to seek Lina out whenever he wanted to, or take a private walk through the gardens or the sultan’s massive private library. His time was his own for the most part, except when the sultan wanted a piece of eye candy for his throne room... or breakfasts, dinners, and anything else the sultan wanted him to be present for.

Well, when he thought of it like that, he supposed his time was still divided the same, but the free time was his. Regardless, the days when the sultan heard judicial cases from his citizens Icefall was required to adorn a decorative hearth next to the sultan’s throne. Icefall was allegedly a token of luck and fair wisdom, so he tried to look the part, but he thought the whole thing was silly. If the sultan had a bad piece of fruit for breakfast, or he was too hot (or too cold, or too tired, or-) the judgements were affected whichever way his mood swung. Luckily the sultan only took the cases of highest importance and only heard them once a week.

Today, Icefall was going to explore part of the garden he hadn’t been able to see yet, and of  course Lina had to come with him. She enjoyed the quiet in the garden, and it was there she felt safe enough to speak more than one or two words aloud.

“Lina! Lina...? Hey, have any of you seen Lina?”

He peeked into the laundry, glancing over each of the servants in turn. Somewhere in the back, under a pile of wet sheets, Lina pulled herself free and hurried over to him, flushing red in the face.

“Icefall, I’m working,” she mumbled, and he laughed.

“I know, but still,” he protested. “Want to come on a walk with me? I was going to visit the north gardens today. I found a gate there I think I can jump over and open from the inside. Bet you haven’t seen that yet...!”

She smiled shyly and he reached out to take one of her hands. Squeezing his fingers, she looked back at the other servants in the laundry and found them all staring at her.

“...I can’t,” she finally whispered, and he nodded.

He should have known; the other servants weren’t kind to her to begin with. She probably looked like a favorite of his... and she was, really. But that was dangerous for a low-ranking servant girl.

“I’m sorry,” he said, slowly retracting his hand. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

She backed away and entered the laundry again, head hung low. Icefall watched her go, then quietly continued down the corridor until he found an entrance to the gardens.

Lush vegetation hung over the path, creating a dappled walkway for easy perusing. Now that he had been out and about a few times now he could spot the hidden guards hiding away in the garden, keeping watch on any outsiders traveling in... or him, attempting to  travel out. He stuck his tongue out and tossed his head at the nearest one before he continued his meandering down to the hidden gate.

The garden was set up like a maze; the sultan said it was a “meditation maze,” for improving one’s thoughts, but Icefall thought that was a bit... precocious. Who needed a garden for any other reason than to  have one, for something to tend, and grow, and share... plus, he had never seen the sultan in the gardens either. He barely left the palace, and when he did, it was in a silken litter carried by servants.

The gate was just ahead. He turned a corner and— aha! It was an overgrown wooden blockade, just low enough for him to make the jump to the top if he tried. He sat down in front of it and studied the wood, trying to guess how old it was. In the desert, wood didn’t appear to degrade as it did in a place with more rainfall, and the boards were bleached as white as the stone nearby. How many years  had it been there? He passed one hand over the surface and was surprised when it felt solid, not crumbling or splintering like aged wood he was used to. Was it actually old? Or simply bleached?

He tried to peek through a crack in the gate but it wasn’t big enough for him to see much beyond light on the other side. He tried to find a keyhole, or a handle to pull it open, but just like the first time he stumbled upon the gate he could not find a designated entry point. He knew it was a gate by the hinges on one side, but what was a gate without a method to pass through? He slipped his fingers under it and tried to pull. No luck.

For a moment he looked over the hinges but they were in the same condition as the wood, with an unknowable age. That was it! He had to see what it was hiding now.

Taking a few paces back, he judged the height and figured he could make it. After the initial attempt at escape failed so miserably, he was loath to exert himself like that again. He could be wrong again, then the guards would know that he tried to do  something , and if that happened then he could be stuck inside the palace again for innumerable more weeks with the sultan. He shuddered at the thought and almost turned away from the gate, but the call of a bird inside drew his attention.

His body was moving before he had fully thought through the plan, but that was no matter! He sailed to the top of the gate, latched onto its strong upper edge, and pulled himself up to teeter on the top. Beyond the gate was more garden, but it was even more overgrown than the outside. Outside, it was tastefully full, but inside it was wild. He leapt through the fronds of a palm to land on the same cobblestones that made up the path outside the gate, but inside they were dirty and laced with tiny flowering plants. Lina had called them weeds, but when something was that tiny and pretty, how could it be a weed? Humans rooted out tiny beauty like that when they found it without thought to how the presence of those tiny plants looked. Bah.

Fallen leaves littered the cobblestones and made piles of mulch alongside the path. It was strange how they were all swept out of the way and didn’t litter the path directly, but Icefall couldn’t find evidence of a broom’s work. All of the tiny flowering plants were intact, and none of the white flowers were damaged in the slightest.

He resolved to venture further in. Maybe if a part of the palace’s grounds were this wild there would be an unmonitored exit to the wall. He could leave.

Under the thickening canopy it wasn’t as hot. The desert sun beat down equally across the kingdom, be it the slums or the sultan’s palace, and Icefall welcomed the change. He was used to mountain passes, and even though the heat once felt good on his pelt, it had lost its novelty.

Through the tunnel of vegetation he could glimpse an open courtyard beyond. The first step into the sunlight blinded him only momentarily as he forged ahead.

The courtyard was circular, and lined by plant life just as thick as that which made the tunneled path to reach it. More leaves were piled along the edges of the stone, and the middle of the courtyard was cleaner than the path. Just as he was wondering why the stone was so clear a gust of wind blew his silks back around his shoulders and made his jewelry click together softly.

The center of the courtyard held a statue of a rostronair that looked strangely familiar. It was several heads taller than him, but as he approached and inspected the face he recognized the similarity instantly. The monument held something in its face, its posture, that reminded him of his mate.

His heart ached just seeing it.

The stone of the monument was cracked and ancient so there was no way it could have been inspired by his mate’s likeness, but the statue brought him immense comfort as he settled between its four front hands and leaned against its forearms.

He sighed.

From the center of the courtyard he watched another gust blow the leaves around in a small dust devil before scattering them along the edge with the others. Somewhere in the back of Icefall’s mind he knew what this statue was, but it was old knowledge. Or perhaps a myth he picked up as a pup. The longer he sat and studied the massive hands next to his own, the less information filtered in from his memories. This was strange; he always had a good memory, much sharper than his mate’s, and it was a source of much amusement when Landguard couldn’t remember a recipe to the T or find the good mushroom-picking spot again.

It felt like a laugh in his chest but when it bubbled up he found himself sobbing instead. He was so far away from Landguard, he  needed him more than he needed his own organs, but no amount of wanting could bring them together. He rubbed his face against the stone arms and took a shuddering breath in. The wet on his cheeks stained the rock only momentarily before it faded under another smooth breeze.

The next breath of air drove him to his feet and he stood to face the monument head-on. The kind stone eyes regarded him calmly when he stood up and grabbed onto its arms as high as he could reach.

“You  will tell me what you are!” he demanded, squeezing the rock tightly. “You have to be able to help me!”

For a moment, it looked like the stone eyes turned to look at him directly, and a sharp gust of wind rushed down from the sky and blew him back from the monument so strongly it blew him over and pinned him to the ground for several seconds before easing up and dissipating. He forced his eyes open, shoved himself into a sitting position and watched as a peafowl descended from the same direction as the wind to sit on the rostronair monument’s snout and call down to him.

“I don’t speak fowl,” Icefall responded, before he looked down at his silks. Hopefully he hadn’t torn any falling over—

Wait.

What happened to his body?


	3. Liberty

His hands were... well, hands, but he only had two. And two legs with... with  feet.

Icefall scrambled onto his knees and groaned when his vision swam and a massive pressure behind his eyes throbbed. Instead of staying upright he continued forward and curled up on the ground, gripping his face, grabbing at his hair, doing anything to try and still the roar inside his brain.

A human body. He was inside a human body.

The pain passed after several long moments and he slowly uncurled to study his new form. His hands were smaller, and decidedly weaker, and they were a different color. He looked more like Lina without his pale fur, and as he sat up the silks and necklaces that had previously adorned him swung down around his stomach. They were much too large to wear now.

He struggled onto his knees and shakily lifted the garments from around his neck. It was hard to balance, and one glance at his rump told him that he didn’t have a tail anymore.

Figures.

He reached a hand up to feel his ear. The piercings were still intact, but they felt much too large for his anatomy now. A glance downwards told him he still had his anklet, but it was also too big.

Looking up at the monument, he noticed that its eyes were much less animated than they appeared at first. He crawled on his hands and knees towards its massive arms, and with something to lean on he was able to stand up. He was incredibly wobbly on his newly formed feet, and no matter how much he recalled how Lina’s posture looked when walking he couldn’t exactly mimic it.

He gathered up his jewelry and the silks and stumbled toward the gate. He needed to find Lina, needed to... to explain, to figure this out.

The gate was somehow  open when he returned to it. It wasn’t wide open, but the entry was ajar enough for him to squeeze out. He was about to do just that before he stopped.

If he went out now, the guards would see him. And he didn’t look like himself, and... how could he possibly explain that?

He looked to the sky. Only a few hours more and it would be dark. He would wait until then.

...

By the time it was dark enough to hide his form he was chilled and trembling. The desert was as ruthless with its nighttime cold as it was the daytime heat, and the silks he wrapped himself in weren’t enough to stay warm.

When it was hard to see through the garden he figured it was dark enough to creep back to the palace without being seen. Wrapping the silks tighter around himself he slipped out of the opening and crouched next to the gate. He could go back the way he came... or go through the bushes themselves—

With a hollow sound the gate swung shut behind him. He jumped and lurched upright, then hurried away from the gate. Surely a night guardsman would have heard the noise and would be by to examine the area soon.

Ducking behind a palm tree Icefall looked in the direction of the palace. He could see it, just over there!

He began picking his way through the flowerbeds towards the palace, and somehow without being spotted made it to the farthest dais. This was all well and good, but now he had to find Lina, also without being discovered. This would be slightly more difficult, because there were other servants inside, and more guards.

Crouching in the bushes, he ran through Lina’s schedule. Laundry day today, which means she would wash, hang to dry, and then remove the laundry from the lines before darkness truly fell before joining Icefall in his rooms for a meal.

So where was she now? It was dark, she’d be inside... or just going to his rooms.

Ducking out of the shrubbery he walked deliberately up the steps and into the palace. So far so good, he couldn’t hear any footsteps coming his way... oh, if only his rooms weren’t so far away!

He strode down the hall, wobbling only occasionally now. If he hurried, he might be able to make it.

As he reached the end of the first corridor, the voices of two approaching servants echoed around the corner.

He skidded to a stop. Could he hide?

He looked around quickly. Hide, hide, hide— there! He ducked behind a tapestry against the far wall, praying that his body behind the thick linen wouldn’t look too lumpy. And it worked, the servants walked right past him without incident.

Sliding out from behind the tapestry, Icefall hurried down the hall they came from. His rooms were only a few halls and a staircase away. At this rate, he might just make it.

The next hall was shorter, and he walked as fast as he dared to the end before he had to stop again. More servants were coming and there wasn’t anything to hide behind. He nervously pressed against the wall and put a hand over his mouth. Maybe he could just... not be noticed.

They hurried by, unaware of his presence, and he waited until they had turned the next corner before zipping down the way they came.

He hugged the jewelry tight to his body to quiet the jingling and bounded up the staircase as fast as he could manage. At the top, he took one quick look around before racing for his rooms.

Sliding to a stop on the stone floor in front of his doorway he pushed it sharply open, leaped inside, and slammed the door shut, resting with his eyes closed and back against the door.

He made it. He made it without being caught.

“...hello?”

The sound of another voice made a cold sweat run down his back, and he opened his eyes slowly. He surveyed the room carefully before he located Lina sitting at the foot of his nest with a small tray of fruit.

“Oh Lina, thank the heavens you’re here,” he whimpered, staggering forward.

He started to lose his grip on the silks and jewelry and as he finally sunk down next to her the last little bits fell away. He clung to her, trembling and trying to still his racing heart.

When he finally came back to himself, he realized that Lina had stiffened up under him.

“Lina, what’s wrong?” he asked, looking up at her. “Please... it’s me, Icefall.”

“Icefall?” she whispered, and he nodded desperately, scooting as close to her as he could.

“I don’t know what happened. I found a way behind the gate, and, and... there was this monument, and it looked like  him and then... then...”

Tears welled up in his eyes and he buried his face into her tunic. “And this!”

Her arms came up to hold him, and he clung to her, weeping and choking.

Wasn’t it bad enough to be in this place  without having his own body?

He cried himself out against her shoulder. When he could finally gather his gasping breath and calm down she pulled a blanket out of his nest and wrapped him in it.

“What happened?” she asked, tucking a long white strand of hair out of his face.

How had he not noticed that he had long hair until now? He took a deep breath, rubbed the tears out of his eyes, and looked up at her.

“You remember the gate?”

...

“And now you’re human,” she breathed in her slight, whispery voice, and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, putting his hands on his knees and squeezing. “And I don’t know how to turn back.”

Lina looked down, then pulled the tray of fruit and cheese over to them.

“We should eat,” she said, interrupting the stream of thoughts running through his mind. “And then sleep. Maybe tomorrow we’ll know—“

“ Tomorrow, ” he gasped. “Tomorrow I have to be at the royal court meeting! The sultan, he... he’ll know I’m missing!”

The blanket slid from around his shoulders and Lina pulled it back up, snugly fixing it around him.

“Eat,” she said gently, lifting a desert peach from the tray and pressing it carefully into his hands.

He took it, lifted it to his nose, and breathed in the sweet scent of peach.

“...okay,” he murmured. “Okay.”

He took a bite.

...

After they ate, he curled up with Lina in his nest. Like many nights, he held her, but this time it was different. He had a small, easily-chilled body, so they shared a few blankets and he cuddled with her underneath. She fell asleep swiftly, worn out from her day of work, but Icefall couldn’t make himself sleep, even though he was exhausted.

His mind kept turning. How would he deal with tomorrow? The royal court was his one firm obligation, and the sultan would send guards to search the entire palace if he didn’t show up. And if they found Lina...

He shook his head to clear that thought away. No. He wouldn’t let her come to harm.

But how? They could hide, but where?

The gate to the monument was firmly shut again. He doubted he could scale it, especially in this body.

Where else could they go? They couldn’t trust the other servants, and Icefall’s chambers didn’t have a lock on the door.

Think, think!

He shifted around and Lina stretched before rolling over and pressing her back up against his chest. Running his hand through his hair, he pulled a few strands over to hold up against the moonlight shining through the window. They were as light as his coat was, and seeing the familiar color made his heart ache, right next to the perpetual throb left by his mate’s absence.

Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander to Landguard. On more than one occasion he had fallen asleep to a pleasant daydream of their peaceful lives they had so long ago. If he let his mind drift just enough he could conjure a memory of them in their nest together, tangled up and pressed close, ready to sleep for the night.

“Mm, you smell good,” Landguard spoke in a low, husky voice.

He slid his hand over Icefall’s chest to lace their fingers together, and he hugged him back against his chest.

“It’s that herb patch. Always smells nice,” Icefall murmured, lifting his head for Landguard to nip and nuzzle against his throat.

Dragging his beak up Icefall’s neck, Landguard growled playfully and reached up; he linked his beak with Icefall’s and tugged. Growling low and sweet in his chest, Icefall tugged back, and Landguard gave in and pressed closer.

“I love you,” Landguard breathed in his ear, and Icefall groaned quietly.

"I love you too,” he answered.

If he focused hard enough, he could feel the weight of his mate behind him, holding him close. What he wouldn’t give to feel that again. If only they could leave.

Icefall opened his eyes and the memory faded. What if they left?

He didn’t look like himself, and he had to admit his original body was hard to hide, especially in a place like this crawling with humans. But now, without it, he could blend in with them.

They could escape.

“Lina,” he breathed, squeezing her shoulder. “ Lina, wake up.”

She came to sluggishly, and looked up at him with tired eyes.

“Lina, I was thinking,” he said, “and what if we left tomorrow?”

She stared at him. A few seconds ticked by and she rubbed her eyes.

“Left?” she whispered.

“Yeah. What if, during the royal court tomorrow, we left? Escaped in the crowd? We could make it through the gate without being noticed if we do it right.”

Moments passed. Lina shifted, looked away, glanced at the window. Icefall started to sweat—had he suggested something... wrong?

“...I don’t know,” she finally whispered. “I...”

She rubbed her hands over her face and sat up.

“I’ve never been outside the wall,” she mumbled. “I... was a... a... always here.”

Her voice, while faint and whispery on the best of days, fell away to nothing during her confession. Icefall could sense her tense body, her trembling, and he sat up too to wrap his arm around her.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “If you don’t want to... I’m just afraid they would hurt you if I left.”

She looked down at his hand on her arm before she placed hers on top of it.

“How would we do it?”

...

In the wee hours of the morning Lina crept from his nest-room and scurried down to the laundry. She was one of the few servants about this early in the morning, and it was peaceful. A cool breeze blew through the palms outside, making a soft, rustling noise, and somewhere above the corridor a pair of doves twittered to themselves.

Icefall paced back and forth by the door, staying well away from the windows. All they would need is for him to be spotted from the gardens by a guard. How long did it take him to run from the gardens to his room? It would take Lina at least twice as long, possibly longer if she was stopped or couldn’t find what she wanted. He ran his fingers through his hair and took a wobbly step. He was still getting used to his new sense of balance.

He glanced back at the pile of silks and jewelry that no longer fit him. He had laid out the intricate silver chains so they wouldn’t tangle and he paused to study the way the light caught along the silvery strands. They were beautiful, even without a body wearing them, but seeing them from the outside gave him chills. He had traded one type of bondage for another when he was sold, and here it was laid out in silver.

He withdrew his fingers.

The door to his room burst open and Lina hurried inside, shutting the door and leaning against it to catch her breath. In her arms was a bundle of clothing.

“Icefall!” she squeaked before hurrying over to his side. She handed him trousers and a loose fitting blouse, and after he had pulled them on she helped him do up the belt and slip a pair of soft moccasins on his feet.

“Your hair,” she murmured, brushing a few strands away from his face before pulling the rest out of the back of his shirt.

“Should I tie it up?” he asked, glancing at how she styled her hair. It was pulled into a simple knot at the base of her skull.

She nodded and took a ribbon out of the dwindling bundle of clothing. She emptied her arms of the last two articles—long, pale cloaks that he had seen travelers wearing—and pulled him back to the nest. Once he was settled she set about brushing his hair back and straightening it out before dividing it into segments and starting to braid. Icefall sat patiently, only once shifting to pull at his trousers. He had never worn anything remotely similar to them before and it was a strange feeling to have long fabric around his legs. He wished she had brought a dress like she wore, but anything seemed better than nothing.

Her thin hands made quick work of his long white hair, and once the braid was finished she tied it off with the ribbon. Next, she grabbed the cloak and wrapped it around him, tying it together at his collar. After a moment to think, she pulled his hood up.

“Hides the white,” she mumbled, and he bent his head.

His hair could give him away if the sultan saw it.

“When do they come?” she asked.

“Soon. Very soon,” he said, taking her hand tightly in his. “They want it over with as quickly as possible.”

“Okay...”

“Keep an eye on the window. I told you what the wagons look like.”

She crept over to the window and sat down so she could look out without appearing suspicious from the outside. It was scarcely ten minutes later when the gates opened and admitted two caravan wagons drawn by camels and accompanied by horse riders, pack camels, and some men on foot.

“Icefall!” she hissed, and he crept over to the window, peeking out.

“That’s them! Come on,” he urged.

She grabbed her cloak and together they left his room. Icefall kept his head down in the hopes no one would recognize the color of his hair and let Lina lead the way. They made their way down the staircase carefully, taking each step slowly so they could listen for approaching servants or guards.

Nearly to the bottom, Lina picked up the pace and they made it to the ground level at the same time a pair of guards hurried past them up the stairs. Icefall glanced outside and saw the caravan people walking in, and for a brief moment he took the initiative to pull Lina along and blend in with the back of the group. The merchants didn’t seem to care or notice that they weren’t part of the group, something Icefall attributed to the variety of clothing they wore—no two of the merchants were wearing the same thing.

They followed the group straight into the sultan’s royal hall, a grand room with high, open ceilings and luscious indoor palms in intricate pottery. The sultan himself laid on a daybed elevated off the floor on a high dais with a brilliant red, teal, and cream tapestry behind it. Icefall knew from experience there was a door behind it for the servants to come and go. On the dais next to the lounging sultan was his manservant, four hand servants, and six guards armed with crossbows.

“Please forgive the disarray of my estate,” the sultan began, shifting his position on the daybed. “My pet has gone missing.”

“Bah. Is nothing,” the merchant clearly leading the others said, approaching the sultan’s platform.

He withdrew a chest from within his robes and opened it for the sultan to see. Whatever was inside glowed with intense golden light and captivated all those who could see it, including the sultan.

“Gods,” the sultan murmured. “It is even more stunning in person.”

“We hoped you like it,” the merchant said, carefully closing the chest. “Now talk price.”

“We agreed upon a generous sum,” the sultan said, waving to two of his hand servants.

They disappeared behind the tapestry and returned hefting a chest of their own, this one filled with gold coins.

“Not enough. Men died finding this,” the merchant said, patting the chest in his hands. “More.”

The sultan frowned and glanced in the direction Icefall would have laid on a silken pillow next to him. He looked from the pillow to his manservant, then back.

“...fine. Another!”

A third servant ducked behind the tapestry and returned with another chest of gold, and to this the merchant nodded and exchanged his chest for one of the coin-filled ones the servants held. The merchant turned around and the sultan lifted his hand.

The guards next to the tapestry jerked their crossbows into position and fired at the lead merchant and others at the front of the array. Lina gasped and grabbed onto Icefall’s arm when three merchants fell to the floor and the chest of gold spilled open and scattered coins everywhere.

Chaos.

The merchants began shouting. Some drew weapons of their own while others turned to run. Icefall and Lina were caught up in this stampede for the door and they ended up running outside into the gardens.

Many of the merchants who had ridden horses were in a rush to mount up, but any animal that neared Icefall immediately shied away.

“Lina!” Icefall shouted when she faltered on a flagstone on the stairs. “Hurry!”

He pulled her upright and with the stream of men riding for the gate they blended into the mess of running, scrambling people. As they neared the gate Icefall’s hood blew back and the guards watching the fleeing merchants yelled and pointed at him.

Oh, how he wished for hooves right now! He could run, and run, and run—

He tripped on his own two feet and went sprawling, Lina falling with him due to his grip on her arm. Something in his leg  cracked and he howled when a similar sensation ran through his arm. The fabric of his clothing tore and he felt his body stretching, pulling, growing...

The rest of the merchants passed them by and the guards at the gate approached, brandishing spears. Lina looked down at Icefall but he was still and unmoving, but alive. She could see his chest heaving but something didn’t look right. She couldn’t quite find a good angle to see him, the cloak around his shoulders had billowed out and covered him like a blanket, but she recognized a certain part of his anatomy—a shimmering tail—stretched out from underneath the cape.

“Get away, girl,” one of the guards growled, shoving her back.

He was nearly on top of Icefall when he exploded out from underneath the clothing, claws and teeth bared. He seized the first guard by the neck and ripped out something vital as he whirled around and shredded the face of another. Blood stained his hands, his face, and when he reached back and seized Lina she shrieked and stumbled after him.

They made it through the gate with none of the men still standing, and Icefall turned to look at the others spilling out of the palace at the sound of the guards screaming in pain near the gate. He roared at them, flared his tail, and turned to run.

Five steps from the gate, he yanked Lina onto his back and growled when her hands balled up in the skin of his neck to hang on.

Ten steps, and he was racing down a side alley.

Fifteen, and he had picked up enough speed to disappear into the slums.


End file.
